The Lost Child
by Katie the Elf
Summary: When a young elf is found in Mirkwood, one wonders what his fate may be. Chapter 4 now up! Celebroth returns to Mirkwood and meets Legolas.
1. Prologue

The Lost Child

A/N I don't much know where I'm going to go with this story, I might try to make a romance or something. This is sort of a prologue but not really. I'm giving no hints or clues to where this kid actually came from until later in the story, although it will be important. For the next few chapters it's just him growing up. This will have absolutely nothing to do with the ring or anything, pre-ring time. About 200 years or so before Bilbo's adventures. And yes Legolas fans, he's here. Yeppers. Here we go...

            Haldir, Elf of Mirkwood, was patrolling the Southern border of the King's palace.  It was dark and rainy, and even with his elven eyes he could barely see a yard in front of him. It was cold as well, but he dare not go in. The King demanded at least a day without disturbances while he consulted with an unknown visitor from the West. Haldir wanted to make his King happy, and would therefore carry out his orders. 

It had been a quiet night so far, but he had his bow ready anyway. He was just about to put it away and sit when in the distance he heard a rustle in the trees and a crash. He quickly loaded his bow and ran to where the crash had sounded.

"Ya naa tanya?" Haldir shouted in Elvish. No answer. He tried Common Speech. "Who is there?" A faint moan alerted him that it was a creature in there, and it was hurt and would not hurt him back. Haldir lowered his bow and headed to where he found a small figure.

It was an elf, a young male elf with shoulder length blond hair and wild blue eyes. He was passed out Haldir saw, and he also saw that the boy had no clothes on. The poor thing was so small; he couldn't have been more than 10 years old. Haldir wondered where he had come from. The lad shivered slightly and Haldir realized that he must be freezing. He took off his cloak and wrapped the child in it. 

Now what to do, Haldir thought. The King demanded that the guards stay put in their posts. But he couldn't keep the child outside like this. Slowly and quietly, Haldir sneaked his way into the palace, where he tried to find a servant he would leave the boy with.

"Who's that?" It was the prince, Legolas. "Haldir! You're supposed to be on duty! When my father-" He stopped when he saw the bundle in Haldir's arms. "What have you got there?"

"Curious young one." Haldir muttered. "This is the reason I'm not on duty." He opened up the cloak to reveal the face of the boy. "I found him passed out among the trees. Fell out of one of them I think."

"What do you plan to do with him?" Legolas asked.

"I only found him, and I am not fit to be a father. I was only going to take him to one of the servants and see if they could tend to him until he wakes."

"I'll take him Haldir, so you will not be in trouble." Legolas said, taking the boy out of Haldir's arms. 

"Thank you, my prince. Farewell." With that, Haldir swiftly made his way out of the palace, leaving Legolas with the shivering young elf.

Legolas took the elf to his room and sat him on the bed. He found some of his old clothes and quickly dressed the boy. The child was limp and weak, and looked like it was starved. He was still quite cold too, as Legolas pulled blankets over him. The child was quite beautiful as elves go, with his golden blond hair and tanned skin. He had an innocent look on his smooth face, which at the moment was smudged with muck and dirt. He also had a large cut on his arm. Legolas stood up to go get something clean his face, when there was a knock on the door.

"Legolas?" King Thranduil entered his son's room and did not look surprised at all when he saw the young elf laying in Legolas' bed. "So this is the boy Haldir was speaking off. I ran into him after I left my conference with Lord Elrond. Don't you worry about keeping it secret, I'll send for some bandages and washcloths for him. My, he is small."

"I think he's about 11 or 12, father." Legolas stroked the hair of the boy. He began to stir.

The child opened his wild blue eyes slowly and looked around. "Where am I?" He asked. "Who are you?"

"I should ask you the same, lad." Thranduil said.

"I don't know..." The boy said. He turned over to his side, resting.

"I'm King Thranduil, and this is my son Prince Legolas. You're in Mirkwood. Now where do you come from?"

"I can't remember..." The boy moaned. 

"I believe he's lost his memory, father." Legolas said. "Haldir said he might have fallen out of a tree."

"I think so. But we can't keep him here, there's no one to care for him." Thranduil said. "We can't raise him."

"If I may intrude?" Elrond entered the room. Obviously he had overheard the whole thing. "He could come back to Rivendell with me tonight. Arwen will take care of him."

"So be it." Thranduil smiled. Legolas was slightly dissapointed, for he rather liked the boy. But he was a warrior and couldn't raise him either. "But he needs a proper name. What would you like to name him, Elrond?"

"I think I'll name him after Celeborn, my friend." Elrond looked at the lad, studying his features. "Yes, he rather resembles him too. Celebroth is will be. Celebroth of Mirkwood."


	2. Trouble in the Woods

A/N This about ten years later. Celebroth is 20 years old, being about 7 in our terms, and lives in Rivendell with Elrond. He never recovered any of his memory. He lives his life as a normal young elf would. Thank you to all the reviews and www.barrowdowns.com and their Elven name generator that helped me come up with some of these names.

            "Celebroth! Telpereg! Get down from there, both of you!" A yell interrupted the pleasant silence of the woods of Rivendell. "I'm telling!"

            "Hurry Celebroth!" The young female elf called Telpereg raced threw the treetops. "Don't let Telpereg catch us!"

            "She's not going to tell." Celebroth laughed. "She's not brave enough. Besides, we would have to explain why we dumped the bucket of grape juice on her head in the first place, right?"

            Telpereg laughed. "That's right! Hurry though, we want to meet up with the others!"

            Celebroth was a strong looking elf of 20 years, and could fight just as good as the young adults, but in most of the elder's minds, he was just a kid.  That was probably because he acted like one. He and the other children of Rivendell Telpereg, Nurlambe and Orocrist often liked to play pranks on some of the young adults, mainly being the tattletale Lhnore, who was well over 200 years old.

            Celebroth laughed as he hopped into a window from a tree. There in the room was the "clubhouse" of the children. It wasn't much different than the other rooms of Rivendell, but it belonged to them and the loved to play there.

            Celebroth brushed back his golden-brown hair and giggled as he saw Lhnore storming away from the forest. "Did you see the look on her face? Brilliant!" Celebroth, although the youngest of the children, was easily the tallest and most handsome. Elrond told him that when he grew older he would have a fine wife. Celebroth looked disgusted at the thought of it. The elders just laughed at this. He was always smiling and very outgoing, never having anything but jokes to say.

            "You're so foolish, Celebroth! You're going to get us all in trouble!" Orocrist was a wimpy elf of a little over 50. He was always worried about breaking rules, but didn't mind watching and laughing. He had long black and hair and jet black eyes, like most of the Rivendell elves.

            "Stop being such a worrier, Orocrist!" Telpereg was the only girl among the little gang of rascals. She was much like Celebroth, but a little less outgoing among the elders. Her brown hair was always in a rough looking braid that was ruined over hours of playing outdoors. The dark blue eyes were always full of life and happiness.

            "I don't wish to admit it, but I think he might be right!" The oldest and probably the most mature, 102 year old Nurlambe was sensible, smart and knew much more than the others. He would have begun to hang more around the young adults like Lhnore, but he loved his other friends, and put his knowledge to new ideas for mischief and mayhem. He and Telpereg were brother and sister, and looked very similar, except for the eyes. Nurlambe had dark green eyes.

            Nurlambe pointed out the window to Lhnore and another female elf walking angrily across the forest.

            "Oh no!" Orocrist moaned. "Arwen!"

            "What should we do?" Telpereg turned to Celebroth.

            Celebroth brought his hood up over his eyes and began to climb out the window, hoping desperately not be sign by the sharp older eyes of Arwen, Elrond's daughter. His hopes were shattered though, when he slipped off the branch. His elven agility allowed him to quickly grab the branch with his hands, but not before being sign by Arwen.

            "Not so fast you! Get down here, now!" Arwen angrily ordered. Celebroth, knowing he could not disobey Elrond's daughter, dropped quickly to the ground. Arwen quickly grabbed the neck of his cotton shirt and roughly knocked the hood down the reveal the face of the young mischief-maker. "Celebroth! I should have known! Grape juice, and a stout body roaming among the trees? I assume it was him, Lhnore?"

            "I wouldn't be surprised if that irresponsible and immature Nurlambe was right behind!" Lhnore snapped. Celebroth stuck his tongue out at her to defend his older friend.

            "Now Celebroth, don't do that!" Arwen said shaking a warning finger at him. "And Lhnore, don't accuse Nurlambe of something you have no proof he did! It could just as easily been Telpereg or Orocrist"

            "It's probably the way he was brought up," Lhnore continued. "A simple shake of a finger and a scold is not a way to discipline a hopeless case like his." Celebroth would have spoken his mind if it wasn't for the look Arwen was giving him. "My father would have smacked him one good if he was raising him."

            "Well, although your father is a well respected warrior, Lhnore, he is not raising Celebroth. I am. I am also your superior. Now I order you to go on about your business, and leave Celebroth alone! For I know Celebroth would never play a trick like that on you if you didn't deserve it!" Lhnore looked red-faced and disgusted with this comment. She angrily turned her heal and left the two elves to themselves.

            "Thank you, Lady Arwen." Celebroth bowed, joking as if he were a prince. "You saved me from the great and wild boar. I am now in a life debt to you."

            Arwen laughed. "Come on, you little rascal! Father wishes to see you!" Arwen began walking, but stopped when she noticed Celebroth did not follow. 

            "Father? Lord Elrond? Wants to see me?" Celebroth stared at Arwen as if she were kidding. "What did I do?"

            "Nothing, silly child." Arwen said smiling. "He just wishes to speak to you."

            Celebroth reluctantly followed his caretaker, his heart beating faster than the wings of a humming bird. Why would Lord Elrond want to see him? He hadn't done anything wrong, of course. Well, besides the obvious. But only Arwen would punish him for such small crimes. And Nurlambe and Telpereg had always been right by his side, but they had not been called in. Celebroth's head spun as he walked, and even his elven grace could not keep him from stumbling in worry.

            When they finally reached Elrond's chamber, Celebroth felt as if he was going to be sick. Arwen knocked on the door, and Elrond's voice instructed them to enter. Celebroth stumbled in uneasily, and tripped over a chair. He had always been clumsy for an elf. Elrond laughed at Celebroth's oafishness.

            "Have a seat, Celebroth. Thank you, Arwen daughter." Arwen bowed and exited. Elrond turned to Celebroth, who was shaking madly. "Oh, don't worry, lad, you're not in trouble. I just wanted to discuss some important matters with you."

            Celebroth sighed with relief. "What matters, sir?"

            "As you well know, you have a horrible case of memory-loss, which has been continuing since you were ten years old." Celebroth stared at Elrond. He was a normal elf now, even with his ten years of mystery before he came to Rivendell. Of course, he had to learn everything over again, how to read and speak Elvish, and how to use a bow. Looking back, it was hard to believe he could only speak Common Speech at the age of ten!

            "What does that have to do with anything, sir? I'm a normal elf now, aren't I? I live here, with Arwen and Telpereg and Nurlambe and all of the other elves. I caught up with the standards for those my age, and I can use a bow better than some of the young adults."

            "Yes, we know, but your past is still a mystery." Elrond sighed. "I love you, Celebroth, but I wish for you to return to your proper place. Have you not felt that you don't belong here, Celebroth?" Celebroth did not respond. He wanted to belong here, but it was true. "I suppose that means yes."

            "Why do you bring this up now, Lord Elrond?" Celebroth asked. He was very curious now, for he had never thought much of it for a few years now. He had tried to put it in his path.

            "It's because of this ancient poem found, left by an elf that disappeared centuries and centuries ago. We found it in a library of Mirkwood. Where you were found." Elrond walked over to his bookshelf and picked up a book, and out slipped a sheet of paper, the poem. "It's in a very mixed form of Elvish that is rarely spoken now, and even the ones who did speak it were unable to translate it very well. So it might be incorrect.

_A mysterious gift arrives at a king's door_

_For he his far from the place he belongs_

_He must grow up in a false home_

_            Wrapped in mystery he calls out for reason_

_            For he cannot return, he cannot remember_

_            He became what he wished_

_            Now he must go back to where he started_

_            And only connection will bring him back_

_            Bring him back home again_

"That sure is a beautiful poem, sir, but what does it have to do with me?" Celebroth asked.

            "Ah, you are far too young to understand." Elrond sighed. "Miles away he was carried connects with the fact you were found in Mirkwood but reside in Rivendell. King's door, that goes with Prince Legolas, who took care of you for a few days until I left." Lord Elrond seemed to just be thinking out loud. "He cannot remember, that goes without saying. I think, my boy, that according to the poem, to figure out your destiny you must travel to Mirkwood."

            "Mirkwood?" Celebroth protested. "That's miles away! I've never left Rivendell before! I can't go all the way to Mirkwood! What about my friends? And Arwen?"

            "Now, now, my boy. It's already been decided." Elrond tried to calm him. "You can't grow up in a 'false home' like the poem says. I've spoken to the Kind of Mirkwood, he's agreed to let you live there under the eye of one of his servants."

            "How long must I stay there?" Celebroth asked.

            "I expect it will be a permanent move for you, Celebroth, I'm sad to say." Elrond sighed, and Celebroth felt tears come to his eyes. "Oh, don't give me that, lad. You will see Arwen when she and I come to visit on occasion. And when Nurlambe and Telpereg get old enough, I'm sure they'd love to visit you."

            But even after that, Celebroth felt more lost than he ever had before.


	3. A Poem and a Move

A/N Short chapter, I know. This is where the plot actually comes in! Whoopedeedo! Warning, if I do decide to turn this into a love story, Telpereg or Lhnore will be the love interests. Most likely Telpereg. 

When they finally reached Elrond's chamber, Celebroth felt as if he was going to be sick. Arwen knocked on the door, and Elrond's voice instructed them to enter. Celebroth stumbled in uneasily, and tripped over a chair. He had always been clumsy for an elf. Elrond laughed at Celebroth's oafishness.

            "Have a seat, Celebroth. Thank you, Arwen daughter." Arwen bowed and exited. Elrond turned to Celebroth, who was shaking madly. "Oh, don't worry, lad, you're not in trouble. I just wanted to discuss some important matters with you."

            Celebroth sighed with relief. "What matters, sir?"

            "As you well know, you have a horrible case of memory-loss, which has been continuing since you were ten years old." Celebroth stared at Elrond. He was a normal elf now, even with his ten years of mystery before he came to Rivendell. Of course, he had to learn everything over again, how to read and speak Elvish, and how to use a bow. Looking back, it was hard to believe he could only speak Common Speech at the age of ten!

            "What does that have to do with anything, sir? I'm a normal elf now, aren't I? I live here, with Arwen and Telpereg and Nurlambe and all of the other elves. I caught up with the standards for those my age, and I can use a bow better than some of the young adults."

            "Yes, we know, but your past is still a mystery." Elrond sighed. "I love you, Celebroth, but I wish for you to return to your proper place. Have you not felt that you don't belong here, Celebroth?" Celebroth did not respond. He wanted to belong here, but it was true. "I suppose that means yes."

            "Why do you bring this up now, Lord Elrond?" Celebroth asked. He was very curious now, for he had never thought much of it for a few years now. He had tried to put it in his path.

            "It's because of this ancient poem found, left by an elf that disappeared centuries and centuries ago. We found it in a library of Mirkwood. Where you were found." Elrond walked over to his bookshelf and picked up a book, and out slipped a sheet of paper, the poem. "It's in a very mixed form of Elvish that is rarely spoken now, and even the ones who did speak it were unable to translate it very well. So it might be incorrect.

_A mysterious gift arrives at a king's door_

_For he his far from the place he belongs_

_He must grow up in a false home_

_            Wrapped in mystery he calls out for reason_

_            For he cannot return, he cannot remember_

_            He became what he wished_

_            Now he must go back to where he started_

_            And only connection will bring him back_

_            Bring him back home again_

"That sure is a beautiful poem, sir, but what does it have to do with me?" Celebroth asked.

            "Ah, you are far too young to understand." Elrond sighed. "Miles away he was carried connects with the fact you were found in Mirkwood but reside in Rivendell. King's door, that goes with Prince Legolas, who took care of you for a few days until I left." Lord Elrond seemed to just be thinking out loud. "He cannot remember, that goes without saying. I think, my boy, that according to the poem, to figure out your destiny you must travel to Mirkwood."

            "Mirkwood?" Celebroth protested. "That's miles away! I've never left Rivendell before! I can't go all the way to Mirkwood! What about my friends? And Arwen?"

            "Now, now, my boy. It's already been decided." Elrond tried to calm him. "You can't grow up in a 'false home' like the poem says. I've spoken to the Kind of Mirkwood, he's agreed to let you live there under the eye of one of his servants."

            "How long must I stay there?" Celebroth asked.

            "I expect it will be a permanent move for you, Celebroth, I'm sad to say." Elrond sighed, and Celebroth felt tears come to his eyes. "Oh, don't give me that, lad. You will see Arwen when she and I come to visit on occasion. And when Nurlambe and Telpereg get old enough, I'm sure they'd love to visit you."

            But even after that, Celebroth felt more lost than he ever had before.


	4. A Present and the Past

            Celebroth leaped of his horse angrily. He had been riding for over 3 hours, and his legs hurt greatly. He had never ridden for so long. As he stepped off, he looked around his surroundings. He was facing a large a beautiful castle-like building with many open towers and tree houses. It was indescribable. He almost smiled, but than he frowned as he remembered that this was Mirkwood, not his home.

            He had left Rivendell in a hurry two days before. He was roughly woken up at 4 o' clock in the morning by one of the messenger elves who would be traveling with him to Mirkwood. The messenger elf and him had hardly spoken to one another, Celebroth preferring to sulk and the messenger elf preferring to walk about on his own whenever they stopped to rest.

            Elrond had not told him that he would be leaving so early, so Celebroth had not had a chance to say goodbye to his friends. He wasn't even allowed to pack very many of his things, as Elrond said he had to start a new life in Mirkwood. He wore only a gray tunic and dark green leggings. He brought along only his journal and a hairbrush Arwen had given him for his first "birthday" or year anniversary of his arrive. These items were very special to him now that he had to leave all the other special things to him behind.

            "Buck up, lad." The elf said. "You will soon be meeting the King of Mirkwood, Thranduil! You will probably have an honored welcome and than go off to a feast in your honor! It will be wonderful. I don't see why you're not smiling. You have to be happy. Do you know what it's like to fulfill one's destiny? Wonderful, I tell you. Better than any other feeling in the world. I remember when..."

            There he goes again. Celebroth muttered to himself, and was saved when a guard of Mirkwood took the horses and led the two elves inside. Inside was not as great as the outside. It was quiet, and there was a silence around. But it was just as beautiful. He heard an elf singing as he saddled up his horse. His voice was so beautiful, he sounded like a violin but with words. He sang of travels and glory, and Celebroth didn't realize he had stopped just to listen until the guard elf yelled his name and barked at him to keep up. 

            They were led down a long balcony and into an outdoor feast hall, where ten or eleven elves were sat around a round table. They fell silent as the guard appeared with Celebroth and the other adult elf. Celebroth stood shyly behind the messenger, not wanting to be seen.

            The guard bowed and spoke directly to one elf that looked like the King. Celebroth thought he might have remembered him from when he was found in Mirkwood. "King Thranduil, my I introduce Celebroth of Rivendell and his traveling companion Iarear son of Iaraearwen."

            Celeborth slowly inched his way out of the shadows and looked at the smiling faces of the King's court. They looked friendly enough Celebroth supposed.

            "Welcome, my Rivendell friends! Come have a seat." Thranduil smiled at Celebroth. "My you have grown, young one. It is amazing how much you have changed from that weak and cold naked boy that landed in front of my servant." He turned to the guard. "Would you get two adult-sized chairs for our guests?"

            The messenger bowed. "With all respect, King or Mirkwood, but I must be off back to Rivendell as soon as possible." The Kind nodded and corrected the guard. Celebroth's traveling friend patted the boy on the back and smiled. "It has been a honor riding with you." With that he left, and Celebroth was left alone with a room full of strangers. He shyly sat down next to a blond elf with black eyebrows and bright green eyes. The elf smiled at him.

            "Hello there, Celebroth." Said the elf. "I am Legolas Greenleaf, prince of Mirkwood. I was one of the first people to see you when you came here."

            Celebroth smiled shyly. All of the elves here seemed to excited to "see him again" while the elves in Rivendell rarely mentioned his abnormality. He shook hands with the elf and began to pick at his plate of fruit and salad, a light meal, as was the fashion of elves. Celebroth didn't feel like telling them he was different and liked to eat more than just was filling. He ate anyway, and decided he would go back to his old habits once he had become more familiar with Mirkwood.

            He looked around the table at the different elves. They were mostly men, while there was one boy a little older than Celebroth. Legolas introduced him to be the youngest prince, and Celebroth smiled at him. The boy, Enchilion was his name, did not return the smile. 

            Legolas took an immediate liking to Celebroth, while the other elves laughed and joked, enjoying Celebroth's presence and not treating him like a child, unlike the way he was treated in Mirkwood. He was not sure if he liked it any better. It was as if he grew up suddenly from a child to an adult in a matter of 3 days.

            After dinner, Legolas led him to where he would be staying. It was a large guest room with a bathing room and a four poster bed with silk sheets and a wooden chest filled with new sets of clothing for him. Celebroth liked it, as it reminded him of his old room in Rivendell. Right off the little balcony by his bed was a large tree that Celebroth fell in love with as soon as he saw it. Like any elf, Celebroth had a passion for trees.

            "Do you like it?" Legolas asked, putting his arm around the young elf.

            "Very much, yes." Celebroth said. He emptied his pack onto the bedside table. He tried to hide his journal and brush from Legolas, embarrassed at his lack of belongings. It made him feel like a peasant. But Legolas' sharp eyes caught it, and instead of sympathy, he cheered him up.

            "I though you wouldn't bring much with you." Legolas smiled. "So I made you a little present the other day." Legolas opened the chest and took out a wooden flute with "Celebroth" carved in on the side. 

            Celebroth was overjoyed at the gift from an adult he barely knew. "It is wonderful. But, I do not know how to play."

            "Tis easy." Legolas sat down next to Celebroth on the bed. For an hour or so, they sat together and Legolas taught Celebroth to play. Celebroth learned fast and thanked Legolas for the gift.

            Legolas left Celebroth, as the boy yawned. He insisted he was not tired, but Legolas brought out a pair of sleeping clothes for him from the chest and demanded jokingly that he go to bed. Celebroth sighed, saying that he would. Legolas laughed and bid him farewell. 

            Celebroth wanted to climb the tree first though. He put his flute in the tunic pocket and leaped gracefully into the tree. Giggling, he climbed to the top and looked around his new home. Elves silently walked around, some sitting by fountains, some singing, some just wandering, thinking. Celebroth took out his flute and began to play a tune that had come to his mind. He almost fell asleep in the tree as he stared up into the heavens. He wondered often, if he had any real parents alive out there, or if they were dead.  Any family, a brother, a cousin, anything of that kind would please him. 

            Celebroth recalled that he had never really wondered about family back home in Rivendell. In Rivendell he was at home, he had a family. An adopted family, yes, but a family just the same. Now he was alone in Mirkwood without any family or friends. Legolas seemed nice enough though, and some of the other elves seemed to like him. 

            Celebroth played one last note on the flute. The flute made such a beautiful sound it was hard to put it down and go back to bed. But in the end he did leap of the tree and climb into bed. His last thought before falling asleep was of the flute and the sound it made.


End file.
